


Motel Memory

by thisisapaige



Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Castiel Deserves to be Loved (Supernatural), Castiel Deserves to be Saved, Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Creepy, Explicit Language, Happy Ending, Helpful Rowena MacLeod, M/M, Memories, One Shot, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Season/Series 15, Supernatural (TV) Over the Years, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural), Team Free Will (Supernatural), liminal spaces, mostly - Freeform, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige
Summary: (For Suptober20. Day 24 Prompt: Family Business)⁂Castiel approached the motel entrance, his footsteps loud in the stillness. When Castiel opened the door and walked inside, a cheery bell announced his arrival. The merry jingle was a sharp contrast to the dusty, decaying lobby.A blonde haired woman, somehow young and old at the same time, stood with her back to the door. She turned around at the sound. She stepped up to the counter, a wide bright smile on her face.“Castiel, my dear,” she said, delighted, “I’ve been waiting for you!”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950343
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	Motel Memory

Hard concrete was underfoot, a hot sun beamed down from overhead, and a dry wind whistled through the empty parking lot. Peeling green paint on the building’s walls revealed the faded blue underneath. Dark, dirty windows revealed little of what was inside. The buzzing neon sign, however, in large blinking letters said it all: Motel Memory. 

The grey landscape, manufactured by artificial hands, and the dying plants which dotted the silent road, their thin branches about to break, were a fair indication that Castiel was not standing on the lakefront anymore. 

Castiel was doing something there. What was it?

There was no life in this new place. The wind pushed back Castiel’s hair and coat but the trees remained still. The sign flickered but never went out. No matter how long Castiel waited, no cars passed on the road.

Castiel approached the motel entrance, his footsteps loud in the stillness. When Castiel opened the door and walked inside, a cheery bell announced his arrival. The merry jingle was a sharp contrast to the dusty, decaying lobby.

A blonde haired woman, somehow young and old at the same time, stood with her back to the door. She turned around at the sound. She stepped up to the counter, a wide bright smile on her face.

“Castiel, my dear,” she said, delighted, “I’ve been waiting for you!”

Still standing in the open doorway, Castiel asked, carefully, “For me?”

“Yes, yes.” She beckoned to Castiel as a signal to move further inside. “Don’t worry. You have a reservation.”

Castiel closed the door and stepped up to the counter. “I haven’t made any reservations.”

“Oh, no. _You_ didn’t, dear.” The woman produced a book from under the counter. When she dropped it on the countertop, dust flew into the air. She opened the book to the last page and pointed at the final entry. “There you are. Right at the end.”

Castiel looked closer at the check-in book. An uneasy feeling swirled in his core when he saw his name. It was not his name as written in the language of humans but his true name in Enochian script. 

“Who wrote this?” Castiel asked.

The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just the clerk.” She grabbed a key off the wall behind her and held it out to Castiel. “Now I can finally close up shop.”

Castiel took the key, the cold metal smooth in his hand. “How long have you been here?”

“Since the beginning.” The woman placed a finger to her lips. “Actually, maybe before that?”

“Why?”

“Well, I had to take care of the family business, didn’t I?” She waved Castiel away, then pointed to the hallway on her left. “Enjoy your stay here at the Motel Memory. You’re the last client. Lucky you!”

“There’s no number on this key,” Castiel said.

“Oh, you’ll know which room is yours when you get there.” The woman waved Castiel away again. “Now go on, get.”

Castiel faced the hallway. He could not see through the dark. He turned back to the woman, ready to ask another question, but she was no longer there. It was as if never existed. In fact, once he stopped to think about it, Castiel realized he had not sensed any life from her at all.

Slipping the key into his pocket, Castiel walked down the hall. 

_Cas? Cas! C’mon, buddy, open your eyes!_

Castiel looked behind him but all he saw was the dark.

_Okay, but what did she do to him? Maybe--_

_Fucking witches, man._

_Is he gonna be okay? Sam? Dean? Is he gonna be okay?_

Castiel stopped at the end of the hallway. He scanned the area before him but he saw only garish wallpaper, wooden numbered doors, and endless shadows. There was no life.

But Castiel heard those voices, did he not?

He continued down the hall. Castiel was no expert but, in his experience, door numbers often correlated with the floor and location of the room. Castiel was reasonably sure he was on the ground floor but every door was labelled with various numbers, seemingly at random.

Voices sounded from the door numbered 118. One voice belonged to an older man, the other a boy.

“Watch out for Sammy,” the boy said. “I know.”

“All right,” the man said. “And if something tries to bust in?”

“Shoot first, ask questions later.”

Castiel tried the key on the doorknob. It did not fit but the door swung open at his touch. The room was dark, all the windows shut tight and the blinds drawn closed. A boy sat in a chair, his back to Castiel, utterly engrossed in the cartoons playing on the small television. Another boy, his small fingers curled around the barrel of a shotgun, pointed the gun at the open door. Castiel stopped short.

The boy did not shoot first.

“Who are you?” the boy demanded, voice shaking. “What are you?”

With the television providing the sole source of light in the room, Castiel appeared as the outline of a shadow to the boy. Castiel, however, could see the boy in the gloom, could see the familiar pattern of freckles across his cheeks, could see the determined glint in his eyes, could see, with perfect clarity, that he was face to face with a young Dean.

“A friend,” Castiel said, “one day.”

“One day?” The gun shook in Dean’s hand. “You’re not getting Sammy!”

“I won’t hurt him. Or you. Never again.” Castiel held his hands out, palms open. “I will watch over you.”

“Watch over me? What do you think you are? Some kind of angel?” Dean scoffed but he did lower the gun. “Yeah right.”

The expression on Dean’s face was exactly as Castiel remembered, back in that barn. “Good things do happen, Dean.”

Before Dean could reply, before Dean could close his mouth, Castiel took a step backwards and closed the door. 

_Uh, guys? Sam? Dean? Did he just shimmer?_

_I didn’t see anything._

_Me either. But Jack does have the ability to see more than us._

_Yeah? Well, see us a way to wake this asshole up. C’mon, Cas._

There was no life in the hotel hallway, just the swirling patterns on the wallpaper and the long rows of doors. 

But Castiel heard those voices, did he not?

Castiel continued down the hallway, skipping a few doors, ignoring the shouting from some, the noise of pleasure from others. There was not a single sound coming from the next door he chose, marked 503. The key did not fit but the door opened for Castiel.

Dean stood from the table, a table covered in empty beer cans and bottles, swaying slightly when he faced the door. His face flashed from anger, to relief, then back to anger. That was where it stayed. 

“Oh, nice,” Dean said, his voice heavy, “so you just flap off to-- what?-- get a new wardrobe or something?” He grabbed a bottle from the table and drank what was left of the liquid. He wiped his mouth and leaned against the table, staring at Castiel. “Since when did you use doors anyway?”

Castiel shut the door behind him and entered the room. “You’re angry.”

“Newsflash, Cas! I’m always angry.” Dean set the empty bottle on the table with the others and stepped right up to Castiel, pressing an accusatory finger to Castiel’s chest. “In case you forgot, there’s an Apocalypse going on. Sam’s not-- we’re not--” Dean swallowed. “Then you just flap off on your own.”

“You said you were happy on your own,” Castiel said. “At the time, I didn’t realize your penchant for hiding how you feel.”

“At the time?” Dean dropped his hand but did not step back. His eyes flitted back and forth as he searched Castiel’s face. “What are you talking about?”

“It will take a long time, but--” Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. The burn, the handprint, lay underneath. Castiel fought the urge to heal it. It was not time for that yet. “It will be okay. You will be okay.”

“Cas, what--”

Castiel closed the door behind him before Dean could say any more and before Castiel could say too much.

_Damn it, Cas. I swear, you leave me again and I’m gonna drag you outta the Empty myself._

_Dean, I hope you realize that Jack and I are coming with you._

_Yeah!_

No life. No life but--

But Castiel heard those voices, did he not?

Door 1219 was already opened when Castiel reached it. Kelly Kline, sitting on the edge of the bed, did not notice Castiel at first. She smiled down at her swollen belly, humming a soft tune. Castiel remembered hearing that melody before, the one about the itsy bitsy spider, because Kelly herself taught him. 

“Castiel.” Kelly Kline’s radiance emulated from her eyes. Her happiness. Her goodness. Castiel had forgotten. “Is something wrong?” 

“No. I, uh--” Castiel cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you”-- he gestured from her head to her stomach-- “ask both of you. Are you well?"

“I think so. Considering everything, I mean.” Kelly gasped and smiled wider, placing a hand against her stomach. “He’s kicking again.”

Castiel sat beside Kelly and held out his hand. “May I?”

Kelly nodded and Castiel placed his hand on her stomach. Castiel smiled at the feel of it. He knew then that this baby would become something wonderful. He was correct but not entirely accurate. The baby grew into something more than Castiel could describe.

“Have you chosen a name?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah. I think I have,” Kelly said. “Jack.”

The baby kicked, eliciting a surprised gasp from Kelly.

“I think he likes it,” Castiel said.

“I think so.” Kelly laughed. “Castiel. I know he’s good. He is.”

Castiel removed his hand from Kelly’s stomach. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “You may be right.” He stood and placed a hand on the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

Kelly nodded, already humming to her stomach again. Castiel took one final look before he opened the door. 

_Cas. You gotta wake up, man. You know Dean’s a mess without you._

_We’re right here, okay? You took care of me. I’ll take care of you._

Still no life. Just an endless motel hallway. 

But Castiel heard those voices, did he not?

Though the voices sounded distant now. 

The hallway appeared darker than before. Castiel blinked and the shadows moved closer. The doors he left behind had completely disappeared. There was nowhere to go but forward. 

The next door he approached was labelled 1302. Castiel did not bother with the key. 

Dean lay on one of the beds, fully clothed, on top of the covers. His eyes opened the instant Castiel entered the room. Dean sat up, his back straight and stiff, and stared at Castiel with wide, watery eyes.

Dean climbed out of bed and slowly, carefully, approached Castiel, never breaking his stare. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

Castiel nodded. It was as good an explanation as any, considering Castiel did not have one at all.

Dean made a strange sound, like he had something caught in his throat. He made no effort to hide the tears which fell down his cheeks. Castiel reached out and wiped them away, but that only seemed to make Dean produce more. 

“I’m sorry.” Dean turned his face and whispered into Castiel’s palm, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“You always save me, Dean.”

“Not this time.” Dean shook his head. “Not this time, Cas.”

Castiel pulled Dean into his arms. Dean sagged against Castiel, muttering apologies over and over again into his chest. Castiel held onto Dean because that was all he could do. Eventually, Dean quieted, his breaths slowed, and exhaustion weighed his body down. Castiel kept Dean from falling.

Wrapping one arm around Dean’s waist, Castiel pulled back the covers on the bed and set Dean down gently. Castiel tucked the blankets around Dean’s shoulders. After checking to make sure Dean was comfortable, Castiel turned to leave. 

Dean grabbed Castiel’s wrist. “Don’t go.”

It would not take much to break free from Dean’s weak and sleepy grip but Castiel found himself returning to Dean’s bedside. Castiel knelt on the floor, letting Dean keep hold of his hand. 

“Okay,” Castiel said, “but you should rest.”

“Can’t. Keep seeing-- keep seeing you--” Dean cut off with a shaky breath. “Miss you.”

“It will be okay.”

“Not without you, Cas.”

“Don’t worry.” Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand. “Good things do happen, Dean.”

Dean snorted. He burrowed further into the covers, his grip tight on Castiel’s hand. “Night, Cas. See you when I try to sleep tomorrow.”

After a short time passed, Dean’s hand went slack. He snored softly, the lines on his forehead smoothing slightly, and mumbled Castiel’s name. 

Though it pained him to do it, Castiel let go of Dean’s hand. He stood at the door, watching over Dean’s sleeping form for a long time before he left. 

_You can’t just sleep your whole way through this apocalypse, buddy. Time to wake up._

_Anything?_

_No. Nothing._

Castiel could hardly hear the voices. Castiel could see little more than one door at the time. He was in a hallway. He was in a motel. At least, he thought so. 

Door 1415 opened as Castiel approached. Sam hovered in the room behind it, throwing a cardigan on the bed like it carried a disease. He sighed and pulled the elastic out of his hair, scratching at his head until his hair stood on end.

“Sam?” Castiel asked, closing the door behind him.

Sam jumped, then whipped around, shaking a finger at Castiel with each word, “Don’t you dare tell Dean!” 

Castiel tilted his head, acting like he had not already. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Sam picked up his duffle bag from under the bed. “Well, we better pack up and, uh, never talk about this again.”

Castiel hummed. “Glasses suit you.”

“Cas! You--” Sam turned around, said glasses in his hand. Sam looked down at them. “You really think so?”

Castiel nodded.

“Huh.” After a moment of deliberation, Sam placed them in the bag. “Okay.” 

“Sam, I know that wasn’t the best way to experience it but…” Castiel took a deep breath. “You seemed happy with a wife and a home.”

Sam shrugged, his back suddenly to Castiel. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You deserve that. You deserve to be happy.” Castiel turned the doorknob. “I’ll check us out.”

Sam faced the door. Castiel caught a glimpse of the shine in Sam’s eyes before he left.

When he closed the door, Castiel heard Sam’s faint, “Thanks, Cas.”

_There’s gotta be something you can do. Rowena, you’re our last hope._

_Last hope? Come now, Samuel, I should have been your first hope._

_Well, you didn’t exactly have a physical body before._

_Oh, I’d never let a small thing like that stop me._

_Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you fix him?_

_Oh, don’t worry, Dean. Your angel is in safe hands. This is very old, ancient magic. Only a very skilled witch could do this. Or reverse it. Luckily, I am a very, very, skilled witch._

_So he’ll be okay?_

_It will take some time, but, yes my dear boy. Your father will be in tip-top shape in no time._

Castiel stepped into pure darkness. The hallway had to be there but Castiel could not see it. He knew there were voices, somewhere, echoing around him, but the words were hard to understand. 

All Castiel could do was move forward. 

The doors were all closed. The key did not fit them. Soon, the doors faded, becoming hanging numbers and vague rectangles rather than something tangible. 

All Castiel could do was move forward.

Castiel smacked into something solid, something like a wall, but he could not see anything but the darkness. The key was knocked out of Castiel’s hand. There was no clink, no sound at all, of it hitting the floor. It fell through infinite darkness, lost.

All Castiel could do was move forward but there was nowhere else to go. 

He turned around, leaned against the solid darkness and stared into the gloom.

There was no life here.

_Why isn’t it working?_

_I don’t know! It bloody well should!_

_Just keep trying, Rowena. It has to work._

_Cas. Please._

_You dick. You asshole. You wake up right now! You hear me, Cas? I am not losing you again, you hear me?_

But Castiel heard those voices, did he not?

The echoing sound of boots on a wooden floor approached Castiel. He made no effort to hide from whatever was coming his way.

The blonde woman appeared in front of Castiel. She held the key in her hand.

“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” she asked.

Castiel felt tired. He forced his eyes to stay open. “Figured out what?”

“This place.” She swept her gaze across the darkness before returning her attention. “This emptiness. This Memory Motel.”

“I suppose not.”

The women held out the key. Castiel did not take it. 

“It’s all crumbling away,” the woman said. “All the worlds. All the realms. God is taking down every last one.”

“This is one of those worlds?”

“Something like that.” The woman still held the key. “Did you enjoy walking through all those memories? Did you find peace being able to right those wrongs and say goodbye? There were so many for you to choose from and yet, you went and spoke to all those humans. One in particular.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, really. Just an interesting observation.”

_Cas! Cas! C’mon, buddy, c’mon._

The woman looked up.

“You hear them, too?” Castiel asked.

“They are a very determined bunch of humans. And almost humans.” The woman stepped forward and took Castiel’s hand in her own. She pressed the key into Castiel’s palm. “Most people find their door on their own but I’ll help you. It’s right behind you.”

_Cas!_

_Cas!_

_Castiel!_

_Cas! Cas, please!_

Castiel turned around. In the darkness, a faint glow in the shape of a rectangle appeared. He raised the hand holding the key. A doorknob made of light shaped before his eyes. The keyhole shone.

“You know,” Castiel said, “there is this human phrase I've learned: ‘my life flashed before my eyes.’ They say it happens when they have a near-death experience.”

The darkness shimmered and shook. The doorknob brightened.

“I may have heard that before,” the woman said.

“Is that what is happening to me?” Castiel stared at the key in his hand. “What happens when I open this door?”

_C’mon, buddy, wake up. We need you._

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” The woman was right behind him. There was no life here. “No one knows until they walk through.”

_I need you._

“The thing is,” Castiel said, closing his palm over the key, “I do. It’s nothing. It’s darkness. It’s the Empty.”

There was no life here.

There was only Emptiness.

Castiel whirled around and thrust the hand holding the key toward the woman’s heart. His hand went right through her. The key clinked against the ground.

The woman grinned. Her face twisted and stretched into a grotesque caricature of a human. Shadows crawled across her face. 

“Oh, Castiel, I’ll be back.” The woman’s human veneer dissolved, leaving behind an empty shadow. “You can count on it.”

_Castiel!_

Castiel heard those voices. He did. 

He cast his arms wide and raised his face toward the voices. 

“I’m here!” Castiel shouted. “I’m right here!”

The shadows scattered in the light.

“Cas! Cas.” A hand touched Castiel’s cheek, gentle and soft. “Open those eyes for me, buddy.” 

The touch chased the remaining shadows away. Castiel opened his eyes, blinking himself back into reality. Sitting on the edge of the bed Castiel realized he was lying upon, Dean looked down at Castiel, lips quivering.

“Thank fuck.” Dean swallowed. “You had me worried there, buddy.”

“I heard your voice.” Castiel made a move to sit up. Dean was ready with a helping hand. At the foot of the bed, Jack, Sam, and even Rowena watched Castiel with wary eyes. “I heard all your voices.”

“Well,” Rowena said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “I believe that this is another day of wonderful work from the most wonderful witch. I’ll be on my way.”

Sam grabbed Rowena’s shoulder before she could leave and gave her a sincere, “Thank you.”

Rowena fluttered her eyelashes as she searched for something to say. She settled on an eye roll before heading out the door.

“Cas!” Jack nearly leapt to Castiel’s bedside, his grip strong when he hugged Castiel from the side. “You’re okay!”

“Of course I am.” Castiel ran a hand through Jack’s hair. “I have to look after you, do I not?”

Jack squeezed Castiel tighter before letting go. His eyes were wet.

“Well, Jack,” Sam said, “I think it’s time we got some sleep.”

“Oh, I don’t need to sleep that much,” Jack said.

Sam raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Dean. He returned his attention to Jack, his stare steady. Dean did not seem to notice the significant exchange.

“But, uh,” Jack said, standing up and returning to the foot of the bed, “maybe I should now.”

“Good idea.” Sam wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulders and led him out of the room. “Glad to have you back, Cas.”

Once the door closed behind Sam and Jack, Dean pulled Castiel into a tight, desperate hug. Dean trembled. Castiel could feel it all through his body. Castiel rested his hands on Dean’s back and waited.

“You gotta stop doing that,” Dean whispered into Castiel’s ear. Dean pulled back, just far enough to look into Castiel's eyes. “What happened to you?”

“I went somewhere. Somewhere else. Somewhere I had the opportunity to speak to people in my past.” Castiel licked his lips. He still did not fully understand what happened. He was still unsure if any of it was real, but he did remember how Dean grabbed his wrist and asked him to stay. “I saw you.”

“Huh. I don’t know how to take that.”

“That’s okay. I’m not sure I know how to take it myself.” Castiel ran a finger over Dean’s jaw. “Or the fact that you called me an asshole.”

Dean snorted, then broke out into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. “Dude. You swore.”

“I can do more. Uh, shit. Damn. Ass. Fuc--”

Dean cut Castiel off with a kiss. Dean took his time, his touch gentle and soft. Castiel opened himself to Dean, accepting anything he wanted to give, and taking anything he offered. 

When they parted, Dean smiled. “I am such a bad influence on you.”

“Not all bad,” Castiel said.

Dean sagged against Castiel, resting his head against Castiel’s chest. Castiel secured an arm around him and wrangled them both into the bed. Dean burrowed into Castiel’s side and closed his eyes. 

Lying there, with Dean sleeping in his arms, Castiel could almost ignore the shadows creeping at the edges of the room. Almost, but not quite.

Castiel listened to Dean's steady breathing as he slept. Castiel listened to the footsteps passing by the bedroom door. Castiel listened to Sam's whispers to Jack.

There was life here.

Castiel heard their voices. He did. 

He focused on the life around him.

The shadows receded. 

**Author's Note:**

> All those room numbers do, in fact, correlate with an episode. Bit of a bonus for those of you who remember that kind of stuff. :)  
> [It's a link to my Tumblr! Feel free to say hi!](https://thisisapaige.tumblr.com/)


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